And the Dark Becomes Darker
by GuiltyRed
Summary: Humiliation is a sport that needs at least two players. I’m going with the idea that Nero actually heard everything Hojo said while he was pontificating away – and was not at all happy.


FFVII:DoC (Hojo/Nero)

**Title:** And the Dark Becomes Darker  
**Author:** GuiltyRed**  
Rating:** PG13  
**Warnings:** spoilers for Dirge of Cerberus  
**Word count:** 796  
**Summary:** Humiliation is a sport that needs at least two players.  
**Prompt:** Final Fantasy VII: Dirge of Cerberus, Hojo/Nero: Humiliation - "And the dark becomes darker."  
**A/N:** I'm going with the idea that Nero actually heard every damn thing Hojo said while he was pontificating away – and was not at all happy.

Wild laughter heralded the birth of a god.

Within the stolen body, Omega stirred and began to wake.

Beside Omega, Hojo laughed. This would be his ultimate triumph, his most spectacular success: not only had he occupied a vastly powerful reanimated body, but he had captured Omega as well. Now all secrets would become known!

Ah, but a complication approached: the subject's younger brother, the vessel who should have held Chaos but instead, as Chaos had already been imprisoned elsewhere, held only the essence of darkness. Had Hojo but known with any certainty where Chaos had truly been all that time, he would never have let the presumptuous Turk out of his sight; still, better late than never, though it did little to explain what, exactly, this darkness was all about.

No matter. He had bigger things to attend to. As the fey young man approached, babbling on about how he would never leave Weiss again, Hojo reached out and crushed his heart. The boy died with his brother's name on his unseen lips.

Pathetic.

Decades of dedication had come to this moment, and Hojo was not about to let some failed experiment derail him. He had a new body, a beautiful and strong body, and with it mastery of Omega itself – all he needed now was to put a certain meddling fool firmly in his place and hopefully unleash Chaos on a dim and fated world.

Valentine's recognition sent a bolt of sadistic pleasure through Hojo's awareness. In this powerful form, he knew he could physically overpower the lesser man, with or without Chaos or Omega joining the fray. But then, this wasn't about bloodshed.

It was about humiliation: Hojo's second favorite sport.

Something fluttered nearby. Hojo glanced around, but even Weiss' mako-enhanced eyes found no movement. Only the still form of his dark brother lay crumpled on the floor. Hojo smiled and indicated the body. "I even found a willing assistant in the lad, _Nero_, here, to help carry out my so-called 'rebirth'. Though, never did he suspect that I would take control of his _beloved_ brother's mind!" Scorn rolled off his tongue like venom as he spoke, secure in his power and relishing every hate-filled glare from the gunslinger.

He indulged Valentine in a bit of combat, which ended all too quickly. The ex-Turk was no match for this SOLDIER's strength; perhaps a duel with Chaos would prove more interesting. Hojo guided his stolen body toward the well of Lifestream that had given Omega its untimely existence. Holding out his hands, he drew the energy in, then issued another challenge.

Again he overpowered his opponent, and when Chaos manifested, Hojo knocked it down before it even had the chance to strike.

Again, Hojo noticed motion where there should be none, as if a sooty moth were seeking a place to land. On closer look, again nothing moved.

As though picking up on Hojo's discomfort, Valentine pressed his advantage. "It's time to end this. Right here. Right now."

This time, however, Hojo felt his control of the powerful body slip, just a fraction. Then with a pang he realized: it wasn't _his_ failing, it was Omega's.

Hojo fell in a heap, Weiss' muscles slackening as life flickered – _fluttered,_ like a moth. "Why?" Hojo cried out, confused and, gods help him, afraid. "Why is Omega's power fading?"

"Weiss…"

The voice sent a chill through Hojo: it whispered like an echo in an ancient tomb. "What's going on?" he shouted, acid desperation eating away at his confidence.

That ghostly movement that had lingered at the corner of his vision rose from the shadows and swirled into form. Nero the Sable, should have been Nero the Dead – "Impossible!" Hojo cried in horror.

Slim hands cupped his face – _his_ face, Hojo's – and gently forced him to his knees. The dark essence spilled into him, filled him, showed him his own depravity and cruelty and a thousand other things that would break a lesser man, but not Hojo. This only endangered his plans, not his soul, for he had excised that part of himself when he'd danced with Jenova. "Get out of me! Omega's host must be pure!"

"SILENCE!"

Hojo froze.

"Silence. I'm speaking with my brother."

Before, he had always been the one to command silence, to demand obedience.

"Brother, let us become one, let us come together so that none may ever tear us apart."

Before, he had always won.

On a whispered promise, Nero flowed into his brother, pushing Hojo further and further away from his host – and his triumph.

Hojo felt suddenly and perilously mortal. The darkness seemed to smirk around him, within him. _That's right,_ it seemed to say, _I have defeated you in your moment of glory._

And Vincent Valentine got to watch.


End file.
